The Alopecia Curse
by Shimzter
Summary: When Auror Malfoy gets hit by a spell, nobody pays much attention at first, not even said Auror. Now Auror Potter keeps laughing, Draco won't leave his apartment, and the whole world is just plain mad. Warnings: Slash, humor, fluff.


**Disclaimer:**J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter franchise. I am writing this for fun and not profit.

**Pairings:**Harry/Draco

**Warnings: DH Spoilers, ignores epilogue, slash (male/male sex). **

**Summary:**When Auror Malfoy gets hit by a spell, nobody pays much attention at first, not even said Auror. Now Auror Potter keeps laughing, Draco won't leave his house, and the whole world is just plain mad. Warnings: Slash, humor, fluff.

**Rating: **R /18+

**Author's Notes:**Much love to Ashii Black and Lili. **Please read the warnings and rating** **before reading.**

* * *

><p><strong>~The Alopecia Curse~<strong>

"Down!"

Harry dove to the floor at Draco's warning shout, twisting midair to aim at their attacker even as a nasty looking purple light flew by, leaving the tips of his hair singed. The witch, Amanda Cassock, shrieked in outrage as the _Incarcerous _that Harry threw snagged and wrapped her in ropes.

Moments before she was completed bound and her wand-arm rendered useless, Cassock shot another nonverbal spell. A red light flew out of the tip of her wand, ricocheting off the walls at lightning speeds before soaring straight at Draco, who hadn't seen the attack. When he didn't duck in time, the spell slammed soundlessly into his chest and sent him crashing backward into the enormous bookcase behind him.

"Draco!" Harry shouted, his face turned partially toward the bookcase but his eyes still focused on Cassock. He couldn't tend to his Auror partner until he was absolutely sure that the witch was immobilized. At least the bookcase didn't fall over and crush Draco with its weight. Harry quickly flicked his wand to tighten the ropes, cast a _Stupefy,_ and then Summoned Cassock's wand before stepping over the ruins of the room to get to his partner. He found him lying at the base of the bookcase, clutching his head as he tried to sit up.

"Ugh, my head," Draco groaned, gingerly massaging his temple as Harry knelt next to him.

Harry gently grasped Draco's chin and tilted his head slowly to either side. "No bleeding," he said in relief. Shifting his hands to firmly hold one of Draco's shoulders, he pressed down gently on his partner's chest with the other. "Any pain?"

"Not particularly," Draco said, wincing. "I think it just hurts from hitting the bookcase."

"What spell did she use?" Harry asked, relieved that Draco didn't seem any worse for wear. "I didn't recognize the wand motion. Nonverbal."

Draco shook his head, then immediately looked like he regretted it and stopped. "I don't think there's any visible effect. Best just get me to St. Mungo's."

Harry nodded and stood, conjuring a stretcher for Draco and levitating him onto it. Then he turned around, flicking a wand at the Stunned witch so that she jerked sharply into the air and came floating to a stop right behind him.

Draco moaned about his aching head all the way to the Apparition Point. Between his partner and the clumps of human hair that –with dried blood caked at the roots, no less– had slipped out of Cassock's robe pockets, Harry couldn't help sighing in relief when Draco was finally in the hands of the Healers and out of his hearing. Once he'd dealt with leaving Cassock at the Ministry, he headed home to make himself a nice cup of tea and soothe his own throbbing head.

* * *

><p>"Draco," Harry called, knocking on the sturdy oak door. "Draco, open up!"<p>

"Go away, Potter."

"Let me in first," Harry said firmly. "You've missed _three _days now. _Three_. Kingsley's furious."

"Leave me alone!"

"Draco, don't be stupid," Harry said in a reasonable voice. "I was there when the Healers released you, so don't even try to say it's that stupid spell that Cassock cast."

He was met with silence.

"It _is_?" Harry said, staring at the door in surprise. "Are you alright? Is it serious?"

"Potter, just go away please, okay?"

"No."

There was a curse, a dull _thunk_, and then more swearing. Harry couldn't help grinning at the door, the image of his prissy Draco stumbling around and knocking things over just too precious.

After Harry had taken his partner to St. Mungo's, the Healers had placed him under immediate observation. However, outside of the mild headache that Draco appeared to have gotten from slamming his head into a shelf, they couldn't find anything wrong with him. Their theory was that the spell Cassock had cast hadn't been more than a spell meant to forcefully push back an enemy, a trivial spell since she had done it under pressure and in so little time. They'd sent Draco home with instructions for bed-rest for the headache, and to take the next day off, just to be on the safe side.

Aurors weren't allowed on field cases unless they had their partners with them. The last three days confined to his desk had been driving Harry insane, and he'd actually managed to finish all their paperwork in the spare time. It was maddening. He'd finally had enough today when Draco hadn't shown up yet _again_, and visited the git's apartment in Diagon Alley.

The door finally swung open, and Harry found himself on the receiving end of Draco's very best glare. "Whatdo you want, Potter?" he snarled, blocking the doorway with one arm stretched out across the doorframe.

"To make sure you're alright," Harry shot back, trying to peek into the house under Draco's arm. What was he hiding? "You haven't been showing up to the office, it's _fucking _boring, and the paperwork is bloody impossible to slave through alone."

Draco sneered at him. "Oh, I see. This wasn't really a visit to _me, _was it? It was to drag me back so you could resume your job of being a no-good lazy arse."

Harry ignored the bait. "Why do I have to drag you back at all?" he asked instead, giving up on getting a glimpse inside and fixing his gaze on his partner instead. "Did Cassock really hit you with something? Why haven't you been coming in?"

"I'm sick," Draco said promptly. "I've a terrible cold."

"That's it? You don't look that sick to me."

Draco looked caught off guard, but he gingerly wiped his nose with the sleeve of his robe. He couldn't quite disguise his look of revulsion, though. "See?"

Harry burst out laughing. "Draco," he chuckled, "Stop being ridiculous. Now tell me the real reason. And let me in, it's freezing out here."

Draco looked at him for all of two seconds before he sighed and moved to allow Harry entrance. Harry hid his smile and stepped in. For all his big talk, Draco was a softie. At least, he was when it came to Harry. Harry liked to take it as a sign that Draco was just a little bit in love with him.

It was a nice thought to entertain himself with, considering that he was already completely and hopelessly in love with _him_.

"Really, Potter, it's just a headache," Draco complained as he shut the door and followed Harry into his small living room. He'd been living here ever since his parents kicked him out for joining the Auror Department, and Harry had to admit that for a first-time apartment owner, Draco was doing pretty well. The apartment was spotless, although Harry had a sneaking suspicion that that might be due to some smuggled house-elf from the Manor. "Your concern is completely unwarranted."

"I don't think so," Harry said. His gaze fell on Draco's hair. It looked...odd. "What's wrong with your hair?"

A panicked look crossed Draco's face before he could stop it, and his hands immediately leapt to his head. "My hair? There's nothing wrong with it," he said, turning and heading into what Harry could only assume was Draco's bedroom, not having been to this apartment many times. "It's fine!"

Harry poked his head into the room, his eyes narrowed on Draco's hair now. Draco was examining it in the mirror atop his dresser, turning his head from left to right. Harry tilted his own head to the side, trying to figure out what was so off about it. "You know, I think it's become a bit more...yellow."

Draco paused and scowled at Harry's reflection over his shoulder in the mirror. "No, it hasn't."

Harry was certain of it now. "I think it is," he said, stepping forward and hoping Draco wouldn't kick him out for barging into his private space. He didn't, but Harry thought that that was because of his undivided attention to the mirror. "Your hair's more platinum blond, you know? Almost white. This looks a bit more sunshine yellow, I guess?"

"There is _nothing _wrong with my hair, Potter!" Draco snapped, turning around to face him. He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser, staring at Harry menacingly. "Was that all, or can you leave now?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Draco, for Merlin's sake, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!" cried Draco. "Look, I'll be into work tomorrow, alright? I promise. Can you leave, now?"

Harry shook his head, pasting an injured look on his face. "Oh, fine. If you want to get rid of me that badly..."

"I do," Draco said, nodding vehemently.

_Ouch_, Harry winced. He needn't sound so passionate about it. "Alright," he said, turning slowly to leave, deciding to smother his curiosity about the hair for now. "But you better be in tomorrow, Draco Malfoy, or Merlin help me, it's not going to be pretty what I do when I find you."

"Yes, yes," muttered Draco, ushering Harry out the door before slamming it shut.

Harry turned to childishly stick his tongue out at the door, knowing Draco would be watching through the peep-hole. Then, feeling just a bit better, he Apparated home.

* * *

><p>True to his word, Draco did show up the next day. And his hair looked fine, that Harry could see. Clearly, whatever it was that had been bothering him about it was over.<p>

"I see your hair is back to normal," Harry grinned as Draco stepped through the door that morning. "Was it a Hair Colour Spell gone wrong before?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're going on about," Draco sniffed, walking straight over to his desk and picking up the topmost case file. "My hair colour is completely natural, you uncultured git. What do we have?"

And that was the end of that. Harry shrugged and decided not to probe, not if Draco was clearly well enough over it to come back to work. Draco went in to see Kingsley about his absence, but he was back fairly quickly. They went about their usual Auror business after that, even managing to narrow down a couple of suspects on their latest case as they settled back into their usual routine of work.

At least, they'd settled into their routine before Kingsley called them into his office about the Cassock case.

"She's asking to speak to the Aurors that arrested her," Kingsley explained to them. "She says she'll confess to the crimes willingly if you two are in the room."

Harry nodded. If a criminal confessed without the use of Veritaserum, it reflected well on the department's Interrogation Unit, which in turn promoted the funds that the Ministry spent on upgrading Auror equipment and training. The coffee machine had broken down two days ago, and the Galleons they could get from the Cassock case would pay for a new one. Coffee was _vital _for Aurors, as Draco regularly stressed, and Harry tended to agree.

Minutes later, Draco was looking hesitant about entering the interrogation room, pausing right outside its door. Harry looked at him, privately admiring how his partner looked in profile, before he patted him consolingly on the shoulder.

"There's something about that spell Cassock hit you with that's making you chicken out, isn't there?" he asked solemnly.

As he had wanted, Draco's spine stiffened as he threw Harry a nasty look (he seemed to save that particular glare for whenever Harry was being stupid which, according to him, happened a lot) and said, "I am not _chickening out._"

Harry hid his grin, purposefully making his voice sound patronizing as he said, "No, of course not. Would you like to wait outside while I deal with her, anyway?"

Draco growled in wordless outrage, slamming open the door and stalking in. Harry, trying very hard not to look too smug, followed.

Confinement hadn't done much to Cassock's appearance, Harry noted. Some criminals broke down into sobbing hysterics once they were in custody, while others tended to grow more manic. Cassock was somewhat the same, if not a bit calmer from the last time they had seen her, looking up from the single chair in the room that was the only piece of furniture. Her hands were tied behind her back, her feet to the legs of the chair. Her gaze found and locked onto Draco immediately.

"You can't have found a way around my spell," she said, baring her teeth in what Harry assumed was supposed to be some sort of smile. "Only I know the counter-curse. I invented it, after all."

Draco froze then, and Harry took that as his cue to step forward. His heart had clenched at Cassock's words – he hadn't really believed that Draco had been in any danger, since he had kept insisting there was nothing wrong. He'd thought that maybe something else was affecting him, not Cassock's spell. "What did you cast at him?" he asked steadily. "Is it killing him?"

Cassock snorted. "Of course not. I do not kill for mere pleasure."

"You tortured all those other people."

"But I wanted to _experiment _on them," Cassock explained, like it was the obvious answer. "I had no use for this one. I just want to see how he is coping with my little revenge." Her gaze returned to Draco then, who had taken a step closer to the door. "Quite well, it seems. I'd have thought someone like him would have shrivelled up with shame by now."

Draco, who hated when people insinuated that he was any less of a man than he was, changed his tune at once. He pulled out his wand, marched up to the witch and, grabbing her by the front of her robe and holding his wand to her throat, hissed, "You _will _tell me the counter-curse for this, Cassock."

"Draco," Harry said, "Come on. She's not worth killing."

"Killing?" Draco snarled, pressing his wand slightly into the soft skin below her chin. "I'm not going to kill her. But it sure as hell is going to _hurt_, what I'm going to do to her. And the best part?" His voice lowered to an ominous whisper. "No one will be the wiser as to what I've done, once I'm through with you."

"_I'll _know," Harry said before Cassock could respond, pressing down on Draco's shoulder. "And I won't let you hurt her, Draco. I know you don't want to either."

"I don't want to?" Draco cried, finally dropping Cassock back into her seat and whipping around to face his partner furiously. "I don't _want _to? Do you have any idea what she's _done_?"

"No," Harry said, in what he thought were very reasonable tones considering the circumstances, "but that's because you won't tell me, and you can't really blame me for that."

"You- you-" Draco spluttered, outraged and evidently at a loss of words.

Harry smiled back.

"Oh, fuck it," Draco finally snapped, his one hand reaching up while the other kept his wand trained on Cassock. He caught a lock of hair and tugged.

It all came off.

Harry clapped a hand to his mouth, his eyes wide. Draco, his beloved Draco, was quite, quite bald.

"The Alopecia Curse," Cassock said in a pleased voice. "I perfected it right before you fools arrested me. Designed to make every last hair on your scalp fall out in one go, exactly twenty four hours after being cast, and doesn't grow back until after the counter-curse is used. Very useful against enemies you don't want to kill."

"The counter-curse, Cassock?" Draco said, refusing to meet Harry's gaze. His face was flushed red, his left hand clutching the wig tightly in a fist, his right arm still levelled at Cassock. Harry couldn't help noticing that when Draco blushed, his entire head turned red too. And the top of his head was quite...shiny.

He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. Wild horses couldn't have stopped him.

He snorted.

Draco's eyes, which had been trained on Cassock, went wide with anger, then hurt. He turned and, before Harry could call out to him, fled through the door. Harry gave chase, of course he did. But Draco was faster than him, and he reached an Apparition point before Harry could grab him, and then he Disapparated with a loud _crack._

Harry thought it rather sounded like his own heart breaking.

* * *

><p>"Draco," Harry yelled, pounding his fist against the door to Draco's apartment. "Draco, open this damned door!"<p>

"Go away!"

"I'm not going anywhere until you open this bloody door!" Harry shouted back, not caring if he bothered Draco's neighbours at this point. This was the second time in two days that Draco had locked him out, and damn it, it was getting to be irritating. "Fucking talk this out, you coward!"

The door swung open with a _bang_. "I'm not a coward! Why won't you leave me alone?" Draco screamed in his face, eyes blazing and arms flailing in his rage. His wig was back.

It wasn't enough to distract from the faint tear-tracks on his cheeks, though. Harry felt awful. "Draco," he said softly.

The sound of his name being said like that seemed to take all the energy out of him at once. He leaned against the doorway, running a hand over his face, his expression weary. "What?"

Harry took a deep breath, a step forward, and Draco's hands in his own. "I love you," he said seriously. Draco's eyes widened, and kept on widening as Harry continued. "I've loved you for years. I love you even though you're stubborn, and self-righteous, and too much of a know-it-all at times." When Draco continued to look stunned, Harry smiled. "I love you because you're beautiful, you're proud, and I trust you, and I know you trust me, and I've seen how hard you've worked to shed your image from the war. And I love you even though you're bald."

At that, Draco stopped looking so surprised and a little more normal. He scowled at Harry. "You laughed at me."

"I was caught off-guard," Harry said calmly. "You're telling me you wouldn't have laughed, if you were me?"

"Exactly. It's not _polite._"

"And there's the stubbornness I love, right there," Harry grinned. His heart was beating so hard it hurt. He hadn't planned on confessing to Draco, not really. But the streaks on Draco's face had done him in.

And Draco hadn't said he loved him back.

He had been hoping, just a little, to hear a confession too. Maybe not love, but that he had a shot at least. But Draco was avoiding his eyes, looking down at the hands that were still linked with Harry's. Harry dropped them.

"Well, I just came to tell you that I didn't mean to laugh, and make sure you were alright," Harry said. His hands were shaking a bit, but he didn't think Draco noticed. "I'll...I'll see you tomorrow?"

Draco looked at him then. "You're leaving?"

"Well, yeah," Harry laughed nervously, and then stopped. His voice sounded high and tinny, even to his own ears. He cleared his throat. "Um. No hard feelings?" He stuck his hand out.

Draco grabbed the hand, pulled Harry toward him and pressed his lips to his.

Harry responded at once, wrapping one arm around Draco's torso as he nipped at his lips and pushed him back into the apartment, using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. Draco's hands hovered over his arms, then shoulders, before deciding to settle in Harry's hair and tug. Harry never knew before how much he liked that. He moaned his appreciation as he trapped Draco against a wall.

Draco broke for air too soon. "I don't love you," he whispered against Harry's lips, their breaths mingling. Harry tried to ignore the pang in his stomach. "Not yet. But I could. I think I'm already halfway there. Why else would I get so upset when you laughed at me?"

Harry opened his eyes, wondering when they had closed. And then shut them again, because he didn't think Draco would forgive him if he laughed right now – the wig was a bit off-center. He _did _love him. He wasn't selfish or vain enough to stop loving Draco just because he was bald, even though he admittedly preferred him with hair. "I'll make you fall for me," he promised instead, moving his lips to Draco's neck and pushing his knee between Draco's legs and rubbing against the bulge there. He licked thoughtfully at Draco's skin. It tasted faintly of some sort of light musk and soap and skin and _Draco_. Harry had imagined it so many times; fantasy was nothing compared to the real thing.

Harry had jerked off to thoughts of Draco being willing. He would have fantasies for _months, _if not years, now that he was not just willing but an active participant. He had been in love with him for so long. Harry reached down and undid the button and zipper of Draco's pants so that his cock sprang free. It was hard and long, and Harry couldn't help his mouth watering. Draco seemed to know what he was thinking, and pushed Harry's shoulder downward. Harry dropped smoothly onto his knees, moving his hands to hold Draco's hips steady, and swallowed him whole.

The taste was off-putting, but Draco's strangled cry more than compensated. Harry immediately set about discovering how many more sounds he could wring from him. Keeping his teeth carefully covered with his lips, he bobbed his head back and forth, taking Draco as far down the back of his throat that he could without gagging. He licked the underside of Draco's cock, fondling his balls thoughtfully. He swirled his tongue around the tip, grinning when Draco's head fell breathlessly back and hit the wall with a dull _thunk_. When Draco's hand, which had been tangled in his hair, moved to grip his shoulder, Harry moved back.

"Potter, what?" Draco glared down, his face red.

"Let me fuck you," Harry said, getting back to his feet. He kissed Draco, letting his tongue sweep into his mouth so that he could taste himself. "Please, Draco."

"Get your pants off, then," Draco said, fumbling with Harry's zipper himself. "Hurry."

Harry needed no more encouragement. In seconds he had removed his shirt and shucked his pants, and Draco had done the same. "On your knees," he commanded, his voice almost choked with lust, watching as Draco sank down naked on all fours, think the better of it and then brace his arms straight out on the couch. Harry kneeled behind him, using a wandless spell to lube Draco's arse and his own cock before plunging into him.

"Ah!" Draco cried out, bending his head between his arms. "Potter, you're supposed to prepare me first!"

"Harry," he said harshly, trying to breathe and not wildly pummel into Draco like some rabid animal. "Call me Harry."

"Harry."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, leaning forward and pushing just a tiny inch further inside Draco. "I couldn't wait. I'm sorry."

"Whatever," Draco said, breathing hard. "Just don't move for a second."

It seemed like agonizing hours before Draco finally nodded, and Harry started moving in and out, slowly at first, and then building speed in time to Draco's cries of pleasure. His fingers gripped Draco's hips, hard enough that he was sure there would be bruises there in the morning. He snaked one hand under Draco's belly as he felt his climax building and stroked Draco's cock in time with his thrusts. Finally, Draco cried out and came, splattering Harry's hand and the sofa, and Harry let himself go to his own blazing orgasm, crying out Draco's name.

He tiredly slumped over Draco's body, and then rolled over so as not to crush him. "Good?" he said then, trying not to let his eyes fall closed.

"Best," Draco said in satisfied tones, before turning to rest his head on Harry's shoulder and drape his arm across Harry's torso. "I might keep you around, Potter."

"You called me Harry a few minutes ago," Harry said, losing the battle with his eyelids and giving in. "Draco."

He thought he heard Draco whisper "Harry" back, but he was too sleepy to notice.

* * *

><p>The door swung open as Draco strode into his and Harry's shared office, grinning like there was no tomorrow. "Guess what?"<p>

Harry looked up from his paperwork and smiled slightly, trying not to look as sappy as Draco had accused him of being earlier that week. He was just _happy_, damn it. They'd been together as a couple for almost a month now, and Harry kept finding reasons to fall even more deeply in love with Draco every day. Plus the sex was brilliant. "What?"

"The Interrogation Unit got the counter-curse from Cassock," Draco said, sitting behind his desk and leaning on one elbow. He winked at Harry. "My hair is entirely natural again."

"You couldn't tell, even with the wig," Harry said loyally.

"_You _did," Draco reminded him, raising a brow.

"I'm different," Harry said indignantly, standing up and walking to Draco's desk. He leaned across it and pecked Draco's lips. "I'm in love with you."

"Whatever," said Draco, his cheeks turning pink as he turned his attention back to the files on his desk. "Have you got started on any of your load, yet?"

But Draco had quietly reached out and squeezed Harry's hand tightly, and Harry smiled in acknowledgement for the gesture it was. Maybe Draco wasn't ready to tell him yet, but Harry knew. It was in the way Draco acted around him these days– Harry had caught him staring more times than he could count.

Now, with his hair back, Harry could run his fingers through Draco's locks and tug like he wanted to – say, in the midst of their love-making – and not have to worry about a wig coming off (Draco hadn't talked to him for days when that happened the first time). Not that'd he'd have minded loving a bald Draco, but this was definitely easier. They had their whole lives ahead of them to love each other, after all.

Come sunshine, rain or alopecia.

**The End.**


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